


My Shoes Are Too Tight, And I Have Forgotten How To Dance

by Dolimir



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (2011)
Genre: Epilogue, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-15
Updated: 2012-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-29 14:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy finally accepts that Steve isn't coming back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Shoes Are Too Tight, And I Have Forgotten How To Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Slodwick's A Picture Is Worth A Thousand Words Challenge #10.
> 
> It was never my intention to write a Captain America story, but the picture I was assigned demanded it.
> 
> This picture is held in copyright by Classic Perfection. No infringement was intended by posting this picture here.
> 
> *-*-*-*-*-*

  
[   
](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v11/Dolimir/?action=view&current=ShoesTooTight1.jpg)   


 

He hadn’t made it.

Not that she really thought he would, but she had hoped. Prayed, even. He had escaped certain death so many times before that it made sense the odds would eventually catch up with him. But how many times had he returned to base with that big wholesome smile of his lighting up the room and apologizing for making everyone worry? How many times had the brass written him off only to have to wipe the egg off their collective faces?

She had hoped for the impossible once again; which was why she had staked out the corner booth at the Stork Club for over five hours, sipping a glass of tonic water and politely declining all offers to dance. She wasn’t the sort of woman who lied to herself, and yet, she couldn’t bear the thought of him skidding into the club, eyes scanning the dance floor, looking for her, only to realize that she had given up on him like everyone else -- although in her heart of hearts she knew he wouldn’t be showing up. Not this time. It wasn’t in his moral makeup to abandon the plane in order to save himself and despite his enhanced genetics there was no possible way he could have survived the freezing water of the Atlantic even if he had somehow managed to survive the crash.

Despite knowing all this, she still showed up, knowing it would make her look weak in the eyes of the brass. But for once in her career, she didn’t care about the opinions of others. For what was life without hope?

“Ma’am?”

She looked up into the kind face of the bartender and nodded. Closing time. She had done her due diligence. It was time to leave.

The sharp click of her heels echoed off the brick walls of the buildings surrounding her as she made her way down the steps of the club to her car. It was almost curfew and yet she couldn’t bring herself to go back to the little room that served as her home when in London. She knew if she did that the walls would close in around her and suffocate her.

So she drove. Through London. Through the countryside. She pushed the car to its limits and considering she had let Stark tinker with the engine that was saying a lot. But she didn’t care. She only knew she had to be – not here.

When the sun finally crested the horizon, she took her foot off the gas pedal and let the car coast to a stop. Taking in her surroundings for the first time, she discovered that she was quite literally in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but fields as far as the eye could see. Beautiful, picturesque meadows like one might find in the pages of Life.

Life. She snorted once to herself.

Getting out of the car, she closed her eyes briefly as her legs screamed their protest. She was a woman of action. She hated sitting in one position for too long, yet it seemed that all she had done for the last twelve hours was sit. The need for a cigarette almost overwhelmed her, but she pushed it aside.

She had worked for the British army for three years before she had been assigned as a liaison with Colonel Phillips, who was overseeing Erskine’s super soldier project. While Dr. Erskine had treated her with respect from the start, the respect she’d garnered from the American military leaders had been hard fought. She had to be twice as good as any male soldier. Twice as quick. Twice as smart. She not only had to learn how to think outside the box, but how to explain her ideas in such a way as not to be written off as a ditz who had slept her way to her rank.

They called her the Iron Lady behind her back when they thought she couldn’t hear. But, of course, she had. She took the name and made it her own. Wore it with pride. Her job, her sole focus, was to do everything in her power to stop Hitler from destroying her home and her people. There had been no time for softer emotions, for relationships beyond that of her job.

Until a five foot, ninety pound asthmatic showed up wanting to do his part for the war effort. From the beginning, she understood his passion, his need to be involved. It had been refreshing to find someone who was genuinely kind, who thought of others before himself and who was willing to work harder than everyone else just to be part of the process.

She won’t bother denying that after Steve had gone through Erskin’s process that she found herself physically attracted to him as well, but his beauty paled in comparison to the fact that he was just ‘more Steve.’

Rolling her head back onto her shoulders, she took a moment to watch the sun rise. She blinked rapidly to keep the tears she felt gathering in her eyes from falling. There was no point in crying. Steve Rogers had been dead for almost two weeks.

She wondered briefly if she was grieving for Captain Rogers or if she was grieving for ‘what might have beens.’ In the brief moment they had kissed, she had seen one of their possible futures laid out as clearly as the countryside around her and discovered that she actually wanted that future -- but only with Steve, with his earnest blue eyes and shy smile.

She stood straight and tall. Enough with the grieving. Hitler still needed to be defeated. England still needed to be rebuilt. She had purpose, she had drive. Steve Rogers had given his all in order to save his country, could she do any less? It was time to go back to the life she had created for herself.

She only wished they had made the time for a dance.

The End


End file.
